


This Can't Be Right

by LittleKnownArtist



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: ASEXUAL PANIC, Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Human, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Character, Blow Jobs, Charlie isn't great at her job, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Masturbation, Oral Sex, RadioBelle, Sexual Content, Succubus Charlie, charlastor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25801591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleKnownArtist/pseuds/LittleKnownArtist
Summary: Alastor summons a demon. This demon is supposed to be the direct offspring of Lucifer himself, but what he summons is...well, this can't be right. A succubus? Asexual panic ensues.Human Alastor/Succubus Charlie connected drabbles.
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne
Comments: 41
Kudos: 306





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble?

His eyes came open with the first rays of light drifting in through his windows. He'd slept in that morning, normal weekdays required him to be well on his way to work before the sun ever rose, but he allowed himself just a little extra time on the weekends.

He sat up partially to feel around at his side table for his spectacles as the fading memory of that strange dream wafted back to him. Such a crazy dream it was...

His entire body froze as a warm, dainty hand twitched against his collarbone and a voice grumbled something. A high, feminine voice.

"Mn...too early...go back to sleep."

He reflexively whipped his head around to spy only a blurry tangle of yellow and a span of white beside him in his bed. Gripping ahold of his glasses at last he shoved the lenses in front of his face because surely, he was mistaken. It had all been some wild and terrible dream, after all. But no. His poor unaided eyes had been accurate in their assessment of the mass of yellow as the long golden curls of of a woman's hair. And the white was the expanse of a young woman's fair and smooth skin.

And my! What a lot of white it was, because as he then noted, the young woman was entirely nude!

He flipped his covers back and scrambled out of his bed, patting at the edges of his pajamas to find them completely in order and his body beneath entirely unmolested.

"Ah," the feminine voice said as its owner untangled herself from the sheets which had been tossed over her, "I guess I'm up now," she chuckled softly, brushing her hair from her face. She rubbed at her eyes as if this scenario was the most natural and commonplace occurrence which she could take ease with.

"So what are we doing today?" She asked, ending in a yawn between those inhumanly black lips.

"Why are you naked?!" Alasor asked, for once in his life at a loss for any other words but those at the most forefront of his mind.

"I always sleep naked--" she rolled her body up into a lazy stretch, arms above her head, small, pert breasts exposed to the morning air. Her nipples were the same shade of pink as the spots on her cheeks, but Alastor hardly noticed as he suddenly found the patterns of his ceiling the most facinating sight in the room.

"It's the most comfortable way to sleep."

"I beg to diff--look here, doll, why are you back here?"

"Hm? You summoned me. No matter where you or I fall asleep, I'll always end up back with you."

"What? That doesn't make any--" he cut off, having naturally attempted to look at who he was speaking to, only to be met with her shamelessly bared flesh again. He'd killed and dismembered several women, but the pallid flesh of the deceased never seemed to bother him quite like that of living bodies. Despite this demon's own skin being the same corpse-white as the fairest of his victims, he was disgusted just the same as he would be of any human woman. Disgusted? It was something quite like a wriggling of worms within his gut, so it was a similar enough feeling to disgust.

"I can't have a conversation like this. Would you please put on some clothes?"

"But...you told me yesterday that you didn't want to see me in my lingire..."

Alastor felt something of a headache coming on. His ever-present grin twitched.

"Don't you have any other clothes to wear?"

"Um..." her voice was soft, almost embarrassed-sounding, "I normally don't need anything else, so...I don't."

"Of course..." he nearly sighed as he spun around to his own wardrobe and began to rummage through his clothes. He tossed one of his white shirts and a pair of trousers in her general direction, asking her to put those on. Assuming she'd had enough time to make herself decent he'd turned to find that she'd neglected the trousers and only had the first button done at the bottom of the shirt.

"The trousers?" He asked simply, shielding his eyes from her form.

"They didn't fit."

Alastor blinked. The demoness was a slender thing from what he remembered, and he reflexively looked back at her to make sure she hadn't gained fifty pounds overnigh--ah, she was slim, but she had the flared hips of a female figure, unlike himself. A moment before he would return to waiting for her decency, he noticed something about her body which wasn't as it should be.

"Wait," he said, pausing her in her awkward attempts to button the shirt. He opened the panel slightly to expose her middle, where her skin was fair and smooth, just as the rest of her. Wide black eyes stared up at him in question.

"I stabbed you. I know I stabbed you. There's not even a trace of a scar." His hand touched the span of skin over where the vein he knew for certain he had cut the previous day should be, disbelief apparent on his face.

"Yeah, you did! And it was really rude of you to do! Honestly, what sort of a man summons a demon just to go and pull a knife on them like that?"

Alastor shook his head, rubbing his hand over where he knew the wound should be. She had changed her form when she'd become confused over his lack of reaction to her propositioning him. She'd decided that a male form might be more alluring to Alastor, if he had no interest in the female body. She'd pressed Alastor back against the wall and he'd struck out in a rather cowardly fashion, like a trapped animal. Armed with a letter opener and a keen knowledge of which blood vessels to sever he'd plungeed the blade deep into her belly. Her body shrank back to a feminine form in her shock as she'd begun to bleed. He had definitely killed her and tossed her in the river. Now, though, all he felt was soft skin, free of any blemishes or evidence of his violence. Except now, where he felt bumps, sort of like gooseflesh raise up on her--

He yanked his hand away from where he had inadvertently been caressing her side. He watched as she buttoned the shirt fully and he supposed she was decent enough to at least talk to now. She was shorter than him, so the length of the shirt was enough to cover at least part of her legs in addition to her torso.

"I'll have you know that mortal weapons can't kill me," she said, crossing her arms like a pouting child. Her spindly tail swished like an angry cat's.

"You summoned me, so I'm bound to you, but now that I know the sort of person you are, you'll not have the luck you did that first time." Her eyes flashed a dangerous red to emphasize her point.

"I didn't mean to summon **you** ," he laughed, setting his hands on his hips. The blonde demon's brow furrowed, clearly confused to his meaning.

"You don't just _accidentally_ summon a demon. That's not something that just _happens_. Especially from my particular ritual. Those sets of steps--"

"I mean--" he interrupted, "I planned to summon a demon, but not a...a whoopie demon." The demoness blinked.

"Whoopie? Is that what they've decided to refer to sex as in this age? That seems sort of silly, but I can go along with it."

Oh yes. That headache was definitely going to be sticking around. Alastor leaned his forehead against his palm.

"Nonono, my dear. There's been some sort of mix-up in Hell. I was meaning to summon the direct offspring of the Devil, the ruler of--"

"Oh? You mean daddy?" Alastor's eyes snapped open. He stared at the little succubus sitting at the edge of his mattress.

"'Daddy'? You mean that Lucifer is actually your father?"

"Yup!"

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Oh no. My parents say I was their perfect princess, so they stopped at me. One heir to the throne is plenty enough, don't you think?"

"You're the heir. The Devil's heir. The heir to the ruler of all of Hell. Lucifer's only child. The only heir?"

"Um...yes? That is...that's me. I didn't think I'd need to introduce myself since you'd gone through the trouble of summoning me using my true name, but..." she sat up a little straighter and took a deep breath.

"I'm Charlotte, here to serve and bring you insurmountable pleasures as just one of my many talents, in exchange for a little something from you. However, on such intimate terms as we shall be, you can call me Charlie." She held out her hand.

"And what, sir, may I call you?"


	2. How to Seal a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor discovers that while sex won't fluster a succubus, kindness may.
> 
> Charlie begins to discuss the Terms of Service.

"Oh, Al, you're ba~ck! I was waiting so long." Alastor stuck out his hand before the succubus could throw herself on top of him in that disgustingly affectionate way of hers. He'd told her time and time again he didn't want to be touched, but she never seemed to get that through her head.

"Oh! Sorry, I forgot!" She drew back away from him, crossing her arms and flushing in embarrassment.

Or maybe she was actually learning. He took in a breath, deciding to treat her like a thick-headed child if she was going to act like one. Positive reinforcement was sometimes necessary.

"Ah, very good, sweetheart. Did you stay away from the windows?"

When he set his hand on her head patronizingly, he saw something like a spark of frustration in her eyes but it was quickly concealed under a pretty smiling mask. She nodded with a sweet little giggle.

"Good girl. Now then!" He snatched his hand away and held out the other one, a clothing bag dangling from his grip.

"I bought you some things to wear while we sort this situation out-- **including** a nightgown. Something that's a little more," he looked her over, standing before him in only one of his shirts, the hem dropping so high as to expose the tops of her stockings had she worn any, "conservative." He waved her along as she took the bag.

"I trust you know where the bathroom is? Tut tut! Put something on." He ushered her away before wandering into his study to pour over his notes from his research into rituals. He'd been so certain in what he'd been doing. He'd prepared for the summoning for a month before the lunar eclipse and he didn't understand how it had gone so wrong.

It wasn't until he'd needed to shift to get the sun out of his eyes that he realized that the demoness had been in the bathroom for half an hour. He leaned back in his chair, looking out the doorway to where the bathroom door remained closed. He drummed his fingers on his desk, once, twice, three times until his curiosity got the better of him. He made his way to the bathroom, listening to the silence of the house for a moment before gently rapping on the door.

"Charlie dear, is everything alright? I hope the dresses all fit?"

"Uh-um! Yeah..."

"There's no issues with the sizing?"

"No?" She said that like a question.

"Darling, you don't sound sure. Come out and show me, I'll see if they fit just fine." He was no expert on women's fashion, but he was certain he'd be able to tell if the dresses would do or not. He heard a muffled reply from the other side of the door he couldn't quite catch before the handle began to turn. The door crept open until the devil's daughter was in full view. Well, she wore the belt at her natural waist, which he supposed was actually coming back into style, but the peach and cream dress came just past her knee and the ribbon cinched the collar up to the base of her throat. Perfectly reasonable. Now he could feel comfortable having a conversation with the blonde little succubus without a gnawing feeling of unease in his gut.

"Why, it looks lovel..." he noticed her expression then, chewing her black bottom lip, eyes downcast, face flushed. He quirked a brow.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Her yellow and black eyes darted to his face before leveling back down to the floor in front of herself. Her face flushed a darker shade.

"Nothing! I uh, I really like the dresses, especially this one," she said, swishing the plentiful skirt in her grasp, "I like the coloring of this one. I always loved how I looked in pastels."

Really? The pastel coloring of this dress was a far cry from the black and blood red she had arrived before him wearing.

"Thank you for buying something s-so nice for me."

He chuckled, leaning down to her eye level.

"What's all this? You're blushing, dear. Hasn't anyone who's summoned you before bought clothes for you?"

She jumped slightly, blinking up at him, studying his expression.

"Well yes, of course. But the clothes are usually tight, scratchy lace, or strappy and...well, they're normally not soft or um, uh, comfortable like this," she explained, rubbing the cotton fabric of the skirt between her fingers. Alastor's grin stretched wide. He was trying his best not to imagine what sorts of intimates previous humans had dressed this girl in, because that was just deplora--

Not a girl, he reminded himself. No matter how naive or sweet this creature seemed, she was a centuries-old demon spawned from the devil himself. She existed to make pacts and suck the life-energy from humans by means of various levels of debauchery. She'd intended on drawing him into bed with her within seconds of her arrival. It was still quite curious how she was so forward during _those_ matters, but she stutters and flusters after being given a pretty dress? Curious.

He was drawn from his thoughts by a small rumbling noise.

"Pardon?" He asked, thinking perhaps the demon had spoken.

The noise came again and Charlie set a hand on her middle. Ah.

"Well, you haven't eaten today, have you dear?" He had eaten while he was in town that morning, but it would be nearing lunchtime by now. Charlie gave him a curious glance.

"I don't normally need to eat..." she seemed to squirm a little where she stood, looking sheepish then.

"You don't?"

"Normally I draw on the energy released during the gratification of--"

"Rice! I'll make a rice dish for you!"

* * *

Being a demon, Alastor fully expected Charlie to dig into the food with ravenous abandon, hardly tasting it or taking the time to appreciate his cooking, getting it everywhere. He was pleasantly surprised when she drew a napkin into her lap and held her fork and knife at proper angles. It would seem that being a princess at least meant she'd learned table manners. Her eyes grew wide upon the first bite of venison and rice, something simple but expertly seasoned. She'd complemented him again and again on his cooking as she ate, but Alastor had other things to discuss, rather than just how great of a cook he was.

"Dear, tell me," he began, opening up his notebook onto the table, "as I understand it, I have six days to finalize my pact with you. What I fail to understand is in what way this would benefit me."

The demon sat straighter in her chair, placed her fork down and chewed thoughtfully for several seconds before swallowing. She placed her hands primly in her lap. She looked like a proper lady by now, despite her loose curls.

"Five days. You wasted one by stabbing me."

Alastor rolled his eyes.

Her expression became serious and she looked Alastor directly in the eye.

"The answer to your question lies in the reason you called upon me in the first place," she held up one finger, "you've made mistakes. I've had less than a day to learn that much about you. A part of you believes you're above such things, but you're still human. You mistook the sort of deals I make, and the sort of demon I am."

Alastor opened his mouth to interrupt. Charlie drew her raised finger horizontally and Alastor felt his jaw clamp shut and his lips press themselves together, effectively sealing his mouth shut against his will. Alastor was slightly taken aback, but he remained still as he stared at the demon before him.

"The hounds that caught your scent. The toolmarks left on those ribs. The alligator that regurgitated the leg...The witness...and those aren't the only ones. You want your past mistakes erased and some insurance in your continued hunts. Am I right in that assumption?" She twirled her hand and Alastor felt his lips unseal; he could speak once again.

"My dear, you are _quite_ presumptuous. How do you expect to do all that for me?"

"That's something you should leave up to me. I'll," she created a gently glowing fire in her palm before clenching her fist and snuffing it out with a shower of sparks, "--erase those past mistakes from the minds of those who know them. As for the future--"

"Now sweetheart, don't go putting words in my mouth. All things considered, I can tell now that you're no ordinary succubus."

"That's fair."

"And I have no doubts about your abilities, so before we hash out the details, what are your terms?"

"My terms?" She tapped a finger to her lip in thought. "You mean what I want from you?"

At his nod, she continued.

"My going rate is twenty years taken from your natural life. More or less depending on the details."

"Twenty years?"

"And an eternity spent in Hell."

"Well I already knew I was going to Hell, so that's no issue."

"Great!" Charlie bounced a little in her seat, her proper princess facade dropping away in an instant.

"Twenty years..." Alastor repeated, lacing his fingers in contemplation.

"You're young and healthy, aren't you? You're likely to make it into your eighties, what's twenty years? Besides, you're not unattractive, I'm likely to give you a discount. Closer to thirteen or ten years most likely."

Alastor raised an eyebrow and chuckled. Would she charge an ugly mug closer to thirty or forty?

"Spoken like a true salesman." Charlie giggled.

"And if I choose to let five days pass without making a deal?"

"I'll drag you to Hell immediately."

"Makes sense to me. How will this deal be sealed? Given your nature, it will be a kiss rather than a handshake I suppose." He was mentally preparing himself for just that. He'd kissed women before, during the curiosity that came with his early twenties, it hadn't been wholly unpleasant.

"A climax."

"A **_what_** ** _!?_** " His eyebrows shot halfway to his hairline and he started at the demoness in shock.

"A climax? An orgasm. The peak of sexual grat--"

" ** _I know what it means_**." Alastor's grin stretched to its limit, an attempt to hide his sheer disgust at the prospect. Die in five days by rejecting the demon's offer, or seal this deal by lascivious means and die in thirty or more years.

"I need to have the first dose of the energy released during a human's climax. Normally my summoners are excited by the idea, but you're a strange one, aren't you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if I'll add a third chapter. As I said these are mostly slightly connected drabbles.


	3. The Opposite of a Lucky Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor is not behaving like himself. Is it stress? Well whatever it is, it's leading him to poor decisions. Poor decisions which result in terrible luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Alastor's begrudgingly getting more comfortable with Charlie? How shocking!

"Aw, you shaved," Charlie commented, a slight pout in her tone. Alastor rolled his eyes above the towel he was using to pat his face dry.

"Tomorrow is Monday, I need to look put together for work."

"Too bad. I liked you kind of scruffy."

"Thank you for that bit of information, dear! In that case, I'll be sure to shave twice a day!" He joked as he began to crawl into bed. Charlie crossed her arms, but wore a playful grin, looking rather adorable with her braided hair and night dress. She cuddled up beside Alastor as much as she could without touching him and shut her eyes. Alastor knew that the demon would inevitably wrap herself around him as the night progressed, the bed was only so big, after all. He found that he didn't mind all that much if she'd only moved around in her sleep. She couldn't really control her movement while she was unconscious, after all. Despite how much he would still like to fault her for touching him, conscious or not, he couldn't. How strange a feeling that was for him, not passing blame on someone like that. Alastor couldn't give a hoot about anyone else's actions being unintended, but Charlie...well, something about her disarmed him and made him feel much more at ease. How odd.

* * *

Alastor felt reluctant to head directly home after work, because then he would be faced with that demon's pestering him to seal the deal. He had three days left. They'd agreed upon the terms and while Alastor was no lawyer, he wrote out a formal contract for Charlie to agree to. It was a pain, but he had to keep up his end of the deal. Ten years, paid in increments by her leeching the years out of him by...particular means.

He walked along the Mississippi River's edge until he found himself following a stream feeding into it and when he looked up, he was in the muddy forest. How'd that happen? This predicament seemed to have ruffled his feathers more than he realized if he was zoning out into his own thoughts this badly. No matter. Alastor knew these parts like the back of his hand.

At least he thought he had.

He couldn't seem to get his bearings no matter how he looked around. Any good hunter knew how to navigate the woods by the sun alone but tge canopy of the trees and the overcast skies weren't helping his situation. Oh damn, of all the rotten things he'd misjudged in the past few days, getting lost in the woods outside of his own damn city was just something he wouldn't live down.

He huffed in annoyance, setting his hands on his hips before yanking a gasper and a match to light it from his coat pocket. He puffed on the cigarette a few seconds to begin easing his mind and cursing his luck. Well, not luck. His own stupidity. He didn't believe in luck. Not really.

Then his shoe came off in the mud. He began to question his beliefs right then at that moment. As he hopped back on one foot to retrieve his shoe, he stepped on something firm, and it _moved_. He spotted the cottonmouth then, angry and aimed to strike. He leapt back and out of the way--muddy socks be damned--

And whopped his head against a branch. Lights out.

If luck existed, it definitely was not his lucky day.

* * *

"Ah, easy," a feminine voice cooed.

Alastor's eyes came open to black and yellow eyes looking him over. They were so close, but Alastor didn't try to pull away. He was leaning back against a solid surface anyways. There was no room to pull away. Somehow, he didn't mind. Those eyes were gentle and caring.

"How do you feel?" Her eyes were warm. He felt warm. He realized he was lying in a pool of warm water, Charlie had stripped his muddy clothes and washed the muck off his skin. His skin was clean and warm, and Charlie's washrag-enveloped hand was warm. He didn't mind this touch.

"Alright."

"Good. You hit your head, but I patched it up for you." Her fingers cradled his face for a moment, then she pressed a kiss to his temple. He didn't mind this touch at all. It felt. Warm. Soothing.

He felt compelled to touch her as well. To hold her close so she would keep touching him. And so he did, wrapping his arms around her bare back as she trailed kisses along his cheekbone, down his jaw, to his neck. Her hands were pressing into his chest and he liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of her hands on his belly then, too.

"Charlie," he breathed, barely audible, pressing his own lips against her forehead. She shifted and he felt the pinch of her teeth on his collarbone and it was wonderful. Her hands massaged his legs and he released her back to prop himself up to watch her hair tickle his belly as she kissed his chest.

The water was gone, but the thought was only at the back of his mind when she kissed down his belly and stroked up his legs. Her hands and lips were so warm. Warmer still as her hands wrapped around his length and her black lips brushed the head.

Then came the buzzing of some pesky insect in the background interrupting his focus on Charlie. The sound became louder, different.

* * *

Alastor's eyes came right open as he recognized the sound of his alarm clock, marking the start to his Monday and his working week.

Disgustimg-- _gross!!_ He felt disgusted all over, but then there was also a deep-seated annoyance with his traitorous body upon realizing he was hard as a rock--much harder than he should be 

He heard a high giggle from beside him as he lifted himself out of bed. He would have glared if not for tge carefully crafted smiling mask he always wore. Charlie was hugging a pillow to her chest and smiling excitedly. If she wasn't making some sort of fun of him, she would have looked like an adorable and gleeful child seeing Mardi Gras for the first time.

"You say you don't want to have sex, but your friend seems to disagree," she said, pointing towards his lap. This foolish woman, this didn't _mean_ anything. He was perturbed by her appearance in the dream, but it was only a dream. It _doesn't mean anything_. His face began to heat nevertheless, since she had so blatantly pointed his body's embarrassing reaction out.

"Darling," he began, syllables staccato, "don't you dare think that--"

"I'm glad to see the pheromones _are_ having an effect on your body at least."

Alastor blushed darker despite the irritation at being interrupted.

"Pheromones?"

"Yeah! I've been releasing them this whole time. I was worried they weren't having an effect. Glad to see I was wrong!"

Confusion overtook his irritation for a moment.

"What are pheromones?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TMI maybe but I'm one of those asexual folks who get sex dreams but like. I'd never behave that way irl. Dream logic is weird. Especially considering 90% of times I'm a man in my dreams with female partners??? I'm a cis woman and 94-ish% romantically into men so??? Dream logic!


	4. Dancing With the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beans are spilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference to PT Barnum, Barnum & Bailey Circus.

It was funny how a long morning at work, and a small birthday celebration could make one forget about other issues at home. Particularly when one was a sort of person who hated sweets and all the foods left out were of sweets. Even against protests of not liking the sweets, or not being hungry, Alastor had pound cake and a danish forced upon him. Him. Who everyone knew took his coffee strong and black.

Even so, how he had only remembered the demon in his house upon entering the door and hearing the radio playing was beyond him. Yet there **he** was, creeping around the edge of his foyer to see into his living room where his radio was playing. There **she** was, back to him, swaying to the music and using a broom as a queer dance partner. This whole situation had his brain scrambled. 

He rubbed his weary eyes under his spectacles. He hadn’t slept well the night before at all, what with the nightmare leaving him only half rested. ( _Yes, he was going to call **that** a nightmare, as he would any situation in a dream which left him with physical **manifestations** in the waking world_). He leaned against the doorway to watch the odd display Charlie was putting on with the broom. Really, though. She may have been dancing with an inanimate object, but her steps went with the music in a perfect form and tempo. It made the dance all the stranger, where Charlie’s golden curls followed her form and shone in the window’s light, softened by lace curtains, and the hem of her blue skirt trailed her gams in their graceful movement, the fact that her partner was stiff and unbending was laughable. Yet, somehow, Charlie herself seemed completely unperturbed by this, and that strange confidence…well, Alastor might describe it as alluring. But Alastor wasn’t drawn in by this woman’s grace as lesser men might, because--

Oh, there go his feet right towards her, after all. 

In a simple twirl, Alastor switched places with the broom, bringing the demon’s delicate hand into his own and leaning the broom against the wall. Charlie’s soft smile was revealed to him as she spun again, bringing herself closer and allowing Alastor’s other hand to rest against her waist. There was no change in her demeanor, as if she had known that he had been watching the display long before she had spotted him. No doubt she had, she’d been overly vigilant since he’d plunged that blade into her belly.

She danced with him perfectly, their feet keeping rhythm with the crackling music over the radio. He was actually impressed with how well she followed his lead in the dance. She was sharp, her steps tidy and graceful and to his great surprise, Alastor was enjoying himself. He was having a dance with the devil’s daughter and finding a giddy laugher blooming in his chest as he dipped this lovely little thing. Her weight was so slight on his arm, but my, how warm and real she felt! He drew her into slower steps as the song lulled to completion, pulling her closer to him. She peered up at him through her long lashes, hands gently draped over his shoulders.

“Sweetheart, how long have you known I was here?” He asked as the song ended and a new once was announced.

“All along. I heard you from the front path,” she said, blinking slowly over those inky black depths set into honeycomb eyes.

“This is alright?” she asked, adjusting her hands on his shoulders.

“Admittedly difficult to share a dance without contact I must admit.”

She just rolled her eyes and Alastor tugged her into another dance. If he was stuck with this demon, he should really rather make the most of it. She was an excellent dance partner, and nothing got the blood moving quite like the Charlton or a swing, or the rhythmic tapping and twirling they laid out special for today. A bump into the sofa had Alastor stumbling, and Charlie caught him with one arm, ending with a low dip into the dance.

“Stronger than you look,” Alastor chuckled, eyes darting away. How clumsy he was, even in the waking world, and it was all…

“What did you expect from a demon? And besides, you’re something of a lanky man, aren’t you?”

Alastor opened his mouth to protest, but he was halted with black lips pressed to it. He stiffened upon the contact, and then jolted when he felt himself pressed back into the cushions of his sofa. He reached a hand up, but found those dainty little fingers threading through the spaces between his own. Soft thighs came over and around his hips, knees pressed to either side of his middle. Soft and very warm, so perhaps it should have felt nice. Actually, he was sure that the way her legs squeezed on him was meant to feel nice. 

He blinked a few times, completely stiff, but then her other hand came to comb through his hair, and he relaxed, just a little. It had been what, six years since he’d last been bothered to try kissing a date? It had never been terrible, just a little strange. Charlie wasn’t terrible though, he thought as her hand slid out of his hair to cup his cheek and adjust the angle of her lips on his. And so, he squeezed that dainty little hand in his and began to return the suddenly fervent kiss. 

It had to happen anyway, didn’t it?

Which was fine. It was completely fine. The way Charlie slipped her tongue out and coaxed him to deepen this kiss of his own volition, well, that was certainly nice of her. She pressed more of her weight into him, and what he had described as slight before felt a lot heavier when it was ever-so-slightly rubbing against the front of his trousers. Then her hand slid down his neck, and in a blink had used her single hand to undo the top button of his shirt. That was less fine. 

“mn…” he attempted to say something.

The moment her fingertips touched the skin past his second button he rolled to the side and flopped Charlie off him. He blinked down at the rug where he thought Charlie should have landed. He expected to see her one the floor along with him, but a moment later he realized her voice was from behind him.

"Alastor?" Her tone was curious, almost confused. He whipped his head back, seeing the demoness perched neatly with her toes on the back of his sofa. He hesitated in his immediate response at seeing this when he also noticed two rather small leathery wings spread out behind her form. Where had those come from? He had certainly seen too much of her form before, and he thought he might notice a pair of wings, just as he noticed her spindly tail. Shaking off his hesitation he ordered her off the back of the couch. She cocked her head, flapped those wings once, setting down on the ground and tucking those back away wherever the _hell_ they came from. Charlie wore a curious expression, tapping a knuckle to her chin, appearing to observe Alastor. He wasn't one who enjoyed scrutiny, and so he dusted himself off and stood once more, grinning broadly, entirely forced. His natural inclination was towards intimidation, but he understood that it wasn't working in this moment, Charlie appearing to be lost in thought as she eyed him. Nevertheless, he hated the feeling of being analyzed, dissected, inspected, so he spoke up in a harsh tone.

"Dear, what exactly is it that has so much of your attention at the moment."

"I know you're a virgin, but--" She began.

"What," he balked. 

"You're awfully...Strange, even for a virgin. Neither of the humans I was with had been one, but I would still think that you would be more eager. I mean, you're about thirty, aren't you? It's odd that you never had a girl before, it's certainly not a problem with your appearance...Your mannerisms Just what is wrong here?"

"There's nothing wrong, _darlin_ '," he scoffed, some of his natural accent slipping with his annoyance, "I just never _fancied_ any sort of relationship, at least like that. It's too troublesome and time-consuming. Not to mention boring and filthy."

"Filthier than the blood on your hands?" Charlie raised a brow when he didn't immediately answer. She stared Alastor in the eye, something strange crossing her features then. Worry. It passed quickly, and her face became rigid, serious.

"You have two days to begin completing this pact. You do realize this. If you don't, the hellhounds _will_ come for you. They'll drag you down kicking and screaming, and trust me when I say it will be excruciating. Every bite will set your skin ablaze, a burning like acid and flames all at once. Your fat and meat will melt from your bones. It will make an ordinary mauling by mortal mutts seem like a papercut. Immolation will seem a walk through a park on a summer's day." 

That worry crossed her features once again.

"I've never failed in sealing a pact. I've never had to witness it, and you do **not** want to be the first to ruin my streak."

Alastor tilted his head. Something she'd said earlier finally clicked into place into his mind.

"I don't plan on dying this week, Charlie." He paused as she let out a relieved sounding sigh. "But...Just how long **is** your 'streak'? You said that neither of the humans you had been with had been, ehem, virginal, so the implication there is...That you've only been summoned twice before?"

Her eyes widened at that. Bingo. It looked like he got it right on the money. He chuckled darkly at that, his grin becoming more genuine, more malicious. No matter what, he found some enjoyment in watching others flounder. 

"I-I-Okay so m-m-maybe that's correct but-I mean, I uh,--" she stammered, cheeks immediately tinting darker.

"I suppose that would explain a few things. You've only been trying to give me the _impression_ that you have experience in demonic pacts, when really."

"I know what I'm doing! I..." She turned away, fiddling with the ends of her hair, something of a nervous gesture, "I've done it before, and I spent decades learning how to seal pacts. S-so, for all intents and purposes."

"It's a false bravado!" he interjected, "Why, you've strung together this charade," he began laughing between his words, "you act so confident one moment, then nervous the next, and it's because it's a false confidence. You don't know what--"

"I know what I'm doing! Maybe I am a little inexperienced, but I've made two successful deals, and--" She jabbed her finger in his face, "you don't have a choice, now do you? Whether or not I have more than just a little field experience, I do have all the power and knowhow that I need to complete our pact. I can get you exactly what you want, Alastor. My last, shall we say, client, was one mister P. T. Bardems, and we both know how well his legacy is doing."

Alastor blinked. That was...interesting. "You got him his circus? The Bardems and Riley circus?" He touched his knuckle to his chin, scrutinizing the demon as she had just done to him moments prior.

"I did. Starting back with his freak show. It was me who gave him the sway over his crowds despite the fabrication of his gaffs. He wanted charisma. I gave him subtle brainwashing, supplied him freaks of nature, and gave him the infrastructure for his brand from the ground up. He was nothing without me." She shifted her weight to one bare foot. "Anything else on my resume you'd like to see, **_sir_**?"

Alastor just chuckled, shaking his head in response, rubbing at his eyes beneath his spectacles. He knew Bardems couldn't have come by his fortune honestly.  
  
"Two days," she reminded, holding up two fingers.

"Very well, Charlie. I'll remember that. For now, how about I make a stew for dinner? It will take a while, but if I start soon..."

He watched her eyes get big and glittery with a childlike enthusiasm. She enjoyed his cooking so very greatly, she didn't even attempt to hide that fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither Charlie nor Alastor have any concept of Asexuality due to the time period, sad.


	5. Killing Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie feels that something is off.

Charlie was frankly confused about what was going on all of a sudden. She enjoyed certain aspects of the work, but she didn't get worked up over it. Not really. She counted back and she knew full well she wasn't due to go into heat for another four months. So why she sat there insistently **not** reading a book taken from Alastor's shelf while she squeezed her legs together was beyond her. 

It _definitely_ hadn't happened with the other summoners, so what was different about this one? Well, he hadn't actually allowed her to have a piece of his essence yet, for one thing. She wondered if that made the difference. She'd been needing to eat regularly, which wasn't something she normally did topside either. _Unless faced with sweets_. She loved sweets. This man didn't seem to have a speck of sugar anywhere in his home, so with that bit of information...

Well, this was a rather rude situation her body was putting her through. If it was due to the incomplete pact that she felt that throbbing ache between her legs, that was unfair. It wasn't even like her heat, where she if she didn't have a partner could just chat up any random demon and corral them into bed to take the edge off, she felt like this ache could only be settled by one person. That fidgety virgin who'd stopped her from progressing several times already. Alastor. Before this ache began, he'd only made her nervous, since she'd rather not see him torn apart and dragged to Hell. Now, though, she'd begun to resent him, even as she crawled into his bed and tucked one of his pillows between her legs.

Even that made her feel a little guilty, since he was a virgin. Her first girlfriend had been one too, but the first time things got really heated between them, Charlie had hinted at sex, and her girlfriend had shoved Charlie down and undressed her with trembling fingers. Not everyone was quite so eager to lose their virginity as Charlie had been. Her parents hadn't let her out of their sight for twenty years, so the first free, unsupervised night she'd had the day after she'd turned 20, she'd worn out that poor prince whose address he'd given at her birthday party. What had been his name, anyway? Pitch? Percy? 

Her standard partners hadn't been human though, and Charlie had always been taught that humans were the most receptive to a succubus's pheromones. So why was this one was so???

Resentment or not, it was still his image in her head as she squeezed that pillow tightly between her legs. He didn't seem to mind the kisses so much, so she could probably kiss him all she liked. Down his throat, her tongue dragging along his Adam's apple. She'd hover over him, tug his bow from his neck, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He'd look up at her with a smile but with nervousness in his eyes. He didn't need to worry though, she would take care of everything. She would take _such_ good care of him.

She rolled her hips against the pillow as she imagined the groan he might make as she trailed her hands down his chest. He'd sound so lovely. She'd squeeze the length of him through his trousers then undo his fly like she were unwrapping a gift, and what a gift he'd be...

...at least she hoped. She frowned as her thoughts broke from her fantasy a little. He was a rather tall man, after all. Maybe he'd be thick? _Oh_ , she hoped he was uncut. She loved a little skin to play with. 

She shut her eyes again, focusing on the image of his face as her fingertips ducked between her legs.

"Do you see how wet you've made me?" She might ask. She was slick as ever as she enjoyed the image of his face at that, brown hair tousled, cheeks flushed, glasses laid beside him. She'd kiss him again and take him in hand, warm and throbbing. He'd be so warm, Charlie imagined. She'd leave him breathless as her kisses left his mouth to ghost over his chest. She'd revel in his gasp as her teeth scraped over his nipple. Then she'd get serious, leaving wet kisses down his belly until she laid one against his length, along the side of his head.

Charlie squirmed against the pillow and her fingers beginning to rub circles around her clit. _Oh_ , she wanted this. She wanted it _so_ bad. The salty precum against her lips would be so, so good. She loved that salted mushroom sort of taste. The silky texture of his head would feel so good against her tongue. She'd swirl her tongue around the head then bat her eyes at Alastor, watching him breathe heavily through her eyelashes. He'd look so delightfully flushed, and hungry, and completely out of his depth. She'd poke at his slit and just beneath his foreskin before taking him in her mouth completely. All in one go.

She could hear him now, how his breaths would turn to moans as she swallowed him down and slowly, teasingly pulled back, her tongue working against his underside. Charlie heard herself squeak, her own breath coming heavy as she imagined him enduring this from her. She worked her fingers faster against herself as she imagined him balling his hands into the sheets, into her hair as she began to work over him more vigorously. He was a virgin, so as much as she'd love him to last, she just couldn't imagine it for now. He'd whine and moan and pant and move his hips fruitlessly against her but then he'd finish with a cry and she'd swallow him down one last time. She'd taste that musky, salted mushroom flavor again and watch his body arch and stiffen as he gave her everything he had.

Charlie squeaked against the sheets as she came to her own climax, panting and trembling with her hand stuck between her legs. She swallowed thickly, her mouth having been watering for the duration of that particular fantasy. She blinked heavy eyes and removed her hand and the pillow from between her legs. She pulled her blue dress back over her legs and examined the pillow. She was a little impressed by the size of the wet spot, some of the syrupy slick not yet soaked in. She never had worn underthings beneath the dresses Alastor presented her with, and she'd expected a lot, but she'd been absolutely dripping from the thoughts of Alastor. 

She snapped her fingers and all evidence vanished from the pillowcase as well as her thighs, which was honestly a lot more comfortable. Post orgasm felt a lot better than the ache she'd felt all morning, but she knew she still needed to complete the pact. The ache was still there, just softened for the time being. Her body needed Alastor to complete the pact, as well as her somewhat nervous disposition. 

The clock read 11:37am, still over three hours from the time Alastor should arrive from work. She'd have to try her best to complete the pact today. That's all there was to it. She was running out of time and she didn't want to see what happened when it was all gone. She put on some jazz and set herself to killing time until she would see the human again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday lol so I decided to start the day off with smut.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't say whether or not I'll add more chapters, this is just a no-pressure way for me to combat COVID quarantine boredom.


End file.
